What's the noise I hear at the window I wonder?
'Tis the little birds chirping, the holly-bush
under
What makes you shoving and moving your stool on
And singing all wrong the old song of the "Coolin"?

There's a form at the casement, the form of her
true love
And he whispers with face bent, I'm waiting for
you love
Get up from the stool, through the lattice step
lightly
And we'll rove in the grove while the moon's
shining brightly.

The maid shakes her head, on her lips lays her
fingers
Steps up from the stool, longs to go and yet
lingers
A frightened glance turns to her drowsy
grandmother
Puts her foot on the stool spins the wheel with
the other

Lazily, easily, now swings the wheel round
Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound
Noiseless and light to the lattice above her
The maid steps, then leaps to the arms of her
lover.

Slower... and slower... and slower the wheel
swings
Lower... and lower... and lower the reel rings
Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing
and moving
Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight
are roving.